Writer's Note: Sex scene, but nothing graphic. Mature readers only.
I'll get back to What if? and TM/EQ soon.. I've gotten a case of
writer's block about them, but this sort of popped out, so decided
to share it with you all. As always, ElfQuest is tm and (c) Wendy
and Richard Pini (WaRP Graphics). Used without permission. Comments
and the like are welcome at jrorr@exis.net
'Madness' (Part 1 of 1)
by Jessica Orr
They come one day from the darkness, and I say nothing, only
watching. My smile is crude compared to theirs; my teeth yellowed
and rotted, and my laughter the croaking of a frog. I laugh at her
and I sing to her, but she smiles thinly as if she hears nothing and
turns her back to my shadows. But I laugh louder and louder until
I see her shoulders tense and her chin toss up.
Oh, she is beautiful. Simply beautiful.
So I stop laughing and a small, dark smile curls upon her
lips. Relief - no, approval! it must be! - glimmered in her obsidian
eyes and she cast my shadows the barest of glances before returning
her attention to the ones before her. A slender hand reaches to touch
her chin and she laughs as well, but softly and silently, so silent
that they cannot hear her.
But I hear you, Mother. I hear your laughter.
I chant their names as they come into view.
The furry one is first, blue eyes glinting and his arms around
a smaller one. Treestump.
The smaller one's eyes are wide and she shudders with every
step. Dewshine
Another stands beside her, struggling to match the burly one's
stance, and behind him is a silvery-haired maiden, her gray
eyes narrowed. Scouter. Clearbrook.
I whisper their names and I see her tense again. She does not
like it when I chant, but I have since stopped caring, so I keep
chanting. Finally, she can ignore me no longer and gathers her robes
in her hands, stalking away in a flurry of black and white.
I smile. I laugh. I won this time.
Or did I? A frown slashes across my ugly face as it dawns on me
that the one I want is not there. Cutter Kinseeker. Cutter Keyholder.
Where is the sword, the moon-sword?
Ground to dust and scattered on the wind... No! A different
game, a game I will not play today. I scowl and curse, and turn my
back on the pink point-ears, disappearing into my shadows. Something
went wrong.. the little ones are there, but not the one I want. I
cannot play the game if the players do not take their turns!
I huddle in a corner and glare angrily at the rats that scurry
past. Damn vermin. These are my holes, not theirs. I grab a
fistful of stones and fling them at the rats, watching the vermin
disappear into their holes and cracks as the stones scatter across
the floor. The noises ricochet and echo off the walls for a long
time and by the time it falls silent again, I am already bored.
I sigh. I grunt. I wait for the vermin to come back, but they
don't. A candle's burning passes, and then I rise, wandering back
through my tunnels. My footsteps are silent, yet they echo with the
intensity of a thunderstorm. A light catches my eye and I hesitate,
wandering towards the spy-hole. I look inside.
Blech. Two point-ears make noises as they touch each other
beneath the sheets of the sleeping pit. My nose wrinkles with
distaste and I swallow the annoying bitterness that wells up inside
of me. No one will ever touch me that way. I am ugly. I am low. I
squeeze my eyes shut and growl at my thoughts to shut up. They
quiet, but do not go away.
The noisy elves finally draw my attention again. The female
makes an annoying gasping noise and the male is grunting. He has her
by the shoulders, fingers biting into her until the area around them
is white. The look on the female's face makes me sick and angry and
upset at the same time, and I bellow so loud they freeze in their
movements.
The female's face goes as white as the flesh beneath the male's
hands. Her bird-like voice quavers as she speaks and the male's eyes
scan the ceiling. I bellow again, just to make them scared, and laugh
out loud as they dart out of the room, naked and sweaty. A peek
through another spy-hole lets me see the looks on the other
point-ears's faces as the pair darts into the Grotto as they are. I
laugh again, madly, and dart down the tunnel.
Mother! I howl with glee. Moth-er!
Eventually I find her in her chambers. She bathes, relaxing in
the crystalline waters with her ugly humans attending to her. Seeing
her like that reminds me of the two point-ears touching each other
and I grimace. I start to chant, soft and low, to anger her and to
vent mine. I drown out my own needs, my own wants for another's
touch. I will never say it aloud, but I envy that ugly male
point-ear. No one will ever touch me or love me. I am too ugly. I
am horrid.
And she will not let me forget it. The moment my song begins,
her voice twists with anger. She shouts, trying to outmatch my
voice, but I sing louder and louder until all she can do is sit
there and fume, lest she exhaust her own lungs. When I finally
quiet, she speaks, her silver-bell voice gutteral and cruel.
"Leave me in peace, you wretched creature."
I laugh at her once. And then I leave.
The End?
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